Pegasus Head Cold
by Aang Beckett
Summary: Carson's got a head cold, but he doesn't want to admit that he can't work like this. It'll take the firm but gentle hand of Dr. Crysta Donovan to get Carson to relax.


**Author's notes: **I own Dr. Crysta Donovan, but I do not own SGA or Carson Beckett :) I really don't know where this bit of drabble came from, typed most of it on my iPhone actually, but here you go. Carson has a head cold.

* * *

Carson was tired this morning, but he didn't stop working to rest. It was his third shift in a row, but still, he kept working through his breaks and through meal times, caring for the members of SGA-1 who had come back rather bruised and battered from their last mission. Half way through the day, his head had begun to throb painfully, but still, Carson worked on.

By supper time, Carson sat at his desk, head in his hands. Somewhere around mid-afternoon, the headache had blossomed into a massive Pegasus-style head cold, complete with cough, sneezing and a slight fever. Resigned to the fact that he should not treat patients by that time, he'd retreated to his office, intent on doing paperwork and filing reports.

His eyes threatened to cross and his head threatened to explode when he tried looking at the computer screen or a sheet of paper, but Carson did not want to stop working, he couldn't stop working.

As he sat, holding his head and beginning to curse the fact that he refused to medicate himself during work hours for fear it would cloud his mind, the door to his office was pushed open gently. A pretty brunette doctor stood in the doorway, her green eyes looking the tired, sick Scotsman up and down.

"Love, you really should take the rest o' the day off and rid y'self of that nasty cold..." It was instantly apparent to Carson as her familiar Scottish accent reached his ear, she must have been watching him at it all day, and seen the progression of his illness. He released a great sigh, finally looking up from the haphazard heap of notebooks and such on the desk. His usually sparkling blue eyes were dull and tired today, and the brunette doctor shook her head in exasperation. _When will that daft bugger ever learn?_ She wondered to herself.

"Lass, you know how I am, I'll be goin' bloody insane if I don't keep busy," Carson stifled a sneeze, turning back to the pile of paperwork ahead of him. Dr. Crysta "Crys" Donovan, the pretty brunette, sighed in exasperation and shook her head. Carson was always stubborn when it came to his work. She decided to leave him in peace for a moment, when she heard one very loud Physicist entering, and slipped out of Carson's office.

"Rodney, do put a lid on that mouth o' yers!" Dr. Donovan's accent thickened as she neared, and Rodney's mouth snapped shut. Very rarely did Crysta Donovan lose her temper with even Rodney, unless something was wrong with Carson.

"Is...everything alright between you and Carson...?" Rodney squeaked out as Dr. Donovan inspected his latest injury, a superficial burn across his knuckles.

"Aye, everything's quite fine, he's just got a wee cold is all. I've got ta make him relax some'ow," Crysta explained to Rodney exactly what was going on, as she bandaged his hand. She tugged at the gauze just a bit hard, accidentally causing Rodney to flinch and growl in an effort not to squeal at the pain.

"Well don't take it out on my poor hand!" Rodney snarked, rubbing at his hand tenderly, causing Dr. Donovan to laugh gently. She finished caring for Rodney's burn and decided she'd return to Carson now, convince him to rest for at least a little while, when she heard the radio call come in.

"_Dr. Beckett or Dr. Donovan, please report to my office_," Elizabeth Weir radioed to the Infirmary, not knowing that Carson was not feeling his best. Crys Donovan rolled her eyes playfully, heading for Carson's office. She would see about getting Carson to rest before reporting to Elizabeth.

"_I'll be down in a few moments, just let me settle Carson first_," Crys radioed back to Elizabeth, her finger dancing to the Comm button on her headset. She gently nudged Carson's door open and peeked around the edge, letting out a surprised gasp and then a giggle. There sat Carson, leaned over his desk, sleeping atop the keyboard of his laptop.

"Come on, Sleepy. Let's get ye settled more comfortably," Crys made her way over to the chair and woke Carson gently, helping him to his feet. He tried to resist, sleepily reaching for his laptop, but Crys slapped his hands gently, staring into the tired blue eyes and giving a stern order with her green ones.

"Bu' I've a load o' work that needs ta get done!" Carson tried to argue, just before letting out a sneeze so large that he stumbled a bit as he walked. Crys caught his arm and led him straight out of his office and out of the infirmary.

Anyone else, she would have let stay and sleep in an infirmary bed, but she was all too aware that Carson would not be allowed to rest peacefully there, which meant that (not for the first time) she would be taking him to his quarters.

As they walked, Carson sniffled, sneezed and coughed the whole way, half-nursing his aching head with one hand and letting Crysta lead him forward by his other arm. She waved her hand across the panels and the door to Carson's quarters slid open in front of her, the familiar room coming into view. She knew the inside of this room all too well by now.

The reddish brown tones of the walls, mixed with the warm yellow glow cast in the windows by the bright suns of Lantea made the room feel welcoming, even with the lights turned off. The chair in the living area was still new, as Carson hardly spent any time relaxing in his quarters. _Perfect. _Crys thought to herself with a half-smile.

Carson allowed himself to be led to the chair, Crysta pulling his lab coat off and disengaging the headset from his ear as they went, and for once, he sat down without being told. He'd recognized the fire in her green eyes, and he never liked to see her temper flare up. He tried to resign himself to the fact that she would not let him work while he was nursing his head cold, but it was a hard task.

"Now Love, I think I can handle m'self from here," Carson began, trying to send Crys on her way. He didn't like that he couldn't work _and _thought he was keeping Crys from her own work. She directed her hard gaze to him, threatening him with her eyes.

"Are ye daft? O' course I'm going to stay an' make sure yer fully settled down, Lad," Crys's accent thickened as she shook her head, her silky brown braid swinging back and forth. She carried a tea cup and a hot pot of tea out to where Carson now sat, carefully pouring a cup and handing it to him. She produced from the pocket of her lab coat two cold medicine capsules and pressed them into Carson's free hand, gesturing to the cup in his other hand.

"Now do take those pills, an' I might be convinced to leave ye alone a while!" Crys ordered in her best 'Dr. Donovan' voice, the same voice she would use on any patient who was being told to take their meds. Carson smiled sort of sleepily, let out another large sneeze, and then gave in and took the pills. Crys smiled gently now, letting the stern doctor façade vanish completely.

After taking the tea pot back to the kitchen area and washing it out, she turned around and had to stifle a laugh. Her trick had worked; she'd given Carson the night time medicine knowing that if she didn't, he'd be trying to work moments after she'd left the room. He'd been just out of sorts enough that he hadn't asked which meds she was giving him, and he had now fallen soundly asleep still sitting up in the chair, with his cup of tea firmly gripped between his hands.

With a smile, Crys picked up a blanket that had been neatly folded at the foot of the bed. She spread it over Carson, noticing that it was hand-knitted of fine wool. She realized it was the one his mother had made for him, as she tucked it gently around him.

By now, the Dr. Donovan façade was totally gone, and she was only Crys, the loving and caring friend. She eased the teacup from his hands, placing it on the table nearby, and leaned the reclining chair back just enough to be comfortable for the Scotsman. With one last smile, she turned to head for the door, stopping only at the sound of a sleepy, thick Scottish accent.

"Thank y' Luv," his voice wasn't much more than a whisper as she turned back and blew a kiss. As the door slid shut behind her, Crys faded and Dr. Donovan returned. She tapped the Comm button on her headset, reactivating it, and stalked back towards the transporter.

"_Elizabeth, I'm on ma' way. Got a wee bit sidetracked trying to convince our head o' medicine to rest_," Crysta stepped into the transporter and tapped the location nearest Elizabeth's office. She'd be there in a moment and handle whatever Elizabeth needed, showing only Dr. Donovan. Crys would be well hidden until later, when she would return to Carson's quarters after her shift had ended and care for him once again.

_Some several days later, Carson did get over his cold. He spent every day that Crysta Donovan forced him to rest fussing about work that needed to be done, but when she finally released him from her care, he found the pile of paperwork on his desk all done and all his usual patients cared for. His first days back were easier than any other days he'd spend working in that infirmary._

_Just a few days after Carson returned to work, Crys would find herself with a headache, and by supper, a full blown head cold. Here was Carson's chance to show her the same kindness she had shown him. Just as Carson had worried needlessly about his work, his second in command would also worry needlessly, and they would come to understand each other's actions during Carson's bout with the Pegasus head cold._


End file.
